


I can't ask for more

by Mira_Mirai



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Family, Friendship, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Romance, Unrequited Love, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 12:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15291786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira_Mirai/pseuds/Mira_Mirai
Summary: Roger sees his life like a series of clips, some short, some long, all important. And, in them, one person, Rafa Nadal.Or: Something happens in 2005, right after Roger and Rafa's second match ever that changes and intertwines their lives forever.(I'm really not that great at summaries, sorry!)





	I can't ask for more

**Author's Note:**

> So we can agree this Wimbledon has been... shit. But I'm actually really proud of how well Rafa has done. I'm sad cause I feel he could have taken the semifinal, and probably the title. But a part of me, I guess, didn't want something that wasn't a Fedal final... Anyway, this story I had started a while ago but this past few days have really inspired me... It was supposed to be short. Lol. (Also, it's the culprit of the delay of Chapter 3 of Perfect Rafa, sorry!) 
> 
> It's a one-shot, I hope you enjoy it. It's a bit... I don't know... I hope you like it! 
> 
> There are some words in German and Mallorquí as well as some Spanish things. Translations and explanations can be found at the Notes at the end. 
> 
> Also, this is un-beta'd and I'm not an English native speaker, sorry for any mistakes! I appreciate if you point them out, tho! ;)

 

 

And Roger closed his eyes.

He saw his experiences as a succession on short clips, snippets of big moments that made up a huge and colourful collage, his life. Some were short and blurry, some long and boring, some were so bright they were blinding, some he wished they weren’t there at all. But it was the sum of all that made… him. And for that, he was proud and grateful.

 

 

─Miami, 2005─

 

He had won. After last year surprising and almost embarrassing defeat, this time, Roger had triumphed over the Spaniard. He had been seeing him a lot since last year. But he was always respectful and nice, so Roger could live with that. His presence didn’t bother him despite the fact that he could sense that Rafael Nadal could become a huge obstacle in his career.

 

Roger got out of the shower and saw that Rafa was still there, freshly showered, dressed and neatly putting away all of this stuff. He smiled when he saw Roger but quickly averted his eyes. Roger looked down, he was butt naked. Smiling, he went to his side of the locker room to get changed and ready to leave.

 

When he was done, he turned, and shockingly Rafa was still there. Bags ready on the bench, eyes deeply focused on the floor.

 

“Something wrong, Rafa?”

 

Rafa looked up, he was tense and looked a little scared. “No, no, Roger. Everything okay. You?”

 

Roger grabbed his stuff and walked to him. “I’m great, they just gave me this very nice trophy, so I’m very happy right now.” Rafa laughed a little while nodding. “Well, Rafa, I’m off. I’ll see you in Europe?”

 

Rafa then rose to his feet, as fast as lightning.

 

“Roger, can I ask you one thing?”

 

“Sure. What is it?”

 

Rafa dropped his gaze again. “Is not question. Is thing I want to say.”

 

Roger nodded.

 

“I love you.”

 

Rafa’s accent was thick but those three words were unmistakable. And, yet, Roger didn’t understand them.

 

“What?”

 

Rafa looked at him. HIs cheeks were bright red, he was biting his lip so hard it turned white, and his pupils were blown in fear. That expression was unmistakable too.

 

“You… love me?” Roger repeated and Rafa was quick to nod. “Love me… like…?”

 

Rafa swallowed, he brushed his long curls with excessive force. “I mean I love you like romantic love.”

 

“Oh.” That’s all that came out of Roger’s mouth, but it was enough to break Rafa’s heart. That, Roger did understand. “I’m sorry. I have… a girlfriend” he rushed to say.

 

Rafa blinked twice and his eyelashes were suddenly thick with morning dew, even though it was late afternoon. Rafa looked at the wall behind Roger then and breathed deeply. “It okay, Roger. I… think this. But…” He smiled at him then, it was sad but beautiful and for the first time Roger understood what Mirka meant when she called some men pretty. “Toni always say: You try, maybe lose but you try. Try is better. If you try maybe lose, maybe win. If you not try, lose for sure, no?”

 

Roger smiled despite the heaviness of the moment. Because only a very special human being would use a sport’s analogy to confess his love. That made him like Rafa a bit more.

 

“I’m really sorry” he repeated.

 

Rafa nodded. “Can I ask other thing?”

 

After what had just happened, Roger couldn’t say no. “Sure.”

 

“Is okay to be friends?” Rafa whispered.

 

Roger was taken aback. He would have expected Rafa to ask for silence on this matter, or to ask of Roger to forget it altogether, or even demand some distance in their next encounters but not… friendship. Roger was right, he definitely had a very special human being in front of him. He was glad for that question, he really was.

 

“Of course. But will that be okay for you?”

 

And Rafa with that same smile from before said “I can’t ask for more.”

 

 

─Monte-carlo, 2008─

 

“Roger”, the reported raised his hand to direct his attention to him, “can you explain how it works?”

 

Roger frowned. “How what works?”

 

“How can your training mate and hitting partner be your biggest rival? Isn’t it a bit unorthodox for you to train with Nadal and then try to beat him every week?”

 

Roger smiled. “Well, clearly I need all the help I can get with that. So, I don’t think it’s wrong to train with him, you know. Clearly, we bring out the best tennis out of each other, so why wouldn’t we train together if our goal is to beat the other? Is there a better lefty out there for me to train with? There’s nothing better than playing with the real thing, you know?”

 

“This is the second season where you’ve trained for the clay season in Mallorca. How is that?”

“It’s fantastic to be honest. We know the island pretty well by now. My girlfriend loves it too, so it works great. We have bought a house, actually. Also, amazing weather, you know. Being used to Swiss winters, being able to go around Manacor on a short sleeve t-shirt in February feels amazing. The only problem is that Rafa’s mom is trying to get me fat. God, that woman cooks so well…” he said dreamily making the whole room laugh.

 

A very stern Swedish reporter raised his hand “Do you ever think that maybe there are ulterior motives?”

 

Roger had a fit of giggles that lasted a good five minutes. When he finally stopped he was winded. “Yeah, that’s Rafa’s master plan, to give me so many mussels that I’m too slow to move on court!” The whole room roared in laughter. “And, of course, my master plan, for when he comes to Switzerland to prepare for the American summer, is to throw him on a lake to see if he drowns” More laughs. “Seriously, guys, sometimes you are just too much.”

 

Another hand was raised “Roger, that was clearly very ridiculous. But isn’t it a bit of a conflict of interest? You and Nadal are clearly very good friends.”

 

Roger smiled, fondly. “Rafa is my best friend. He has been for a while. And, yeah, I’m aware it’s not common. But we both agree, and our teams are with us on that one, that training together has been really good for us. I think Rafa has improved immensely in hardcourt and I’ve never been stronger on clay. He has helped me evolve my game. To us it’s a great motivator to have someone we care about going through the same gruelling regime. And, given that we keep pulling five-setters every chance we get, I don’t think anyone would dare say that we go easy on each other.”

 

“But Roger, what if other players start doing this as well?”

 

Roger shrugged “They are free to do as they wish, of course.”

 

“Roger, do you feel like you and Rafa are, in a way, on league of your own, since the number 3 player is so far away from you two in the rankings? Do you think there’s a challenge for you out there besides Rafa?”

 

“I’d never say something like that. The rankings speak loudly, but they aren’t everything. Any day we can lose. There are some really amazing players. And some up-and-comers who are very promising and that I think will cause us a lot of headaches in the near future. Djokovic for example. But, yes, right now, you know, if we are to lose we are most likely to do it to each other I guess.”

 

“Roger, the other semi-final is almost done, and it seems like you’ll meet Rafa tomorrow for the final. Do you think this could be your time to take this title that has so far eluded you?”

 

He crossed his fingers for the room to see. “I hope so. I really want that trophy. It’s a really pretty one to be honest. Maybe I should do as your colleague suggested… to be more ‘ulterior’…” He winked. “Today when we’re having dinner I may put some laxatives on Rafa’s food, and then hope for the best.” Everyone laughed.

 

“Not gonna work, Rogi” said someone by the door. Everyone turned to look. Rafa was there, just fresh out of the court, covered in clay and sweat, as always. “You know my stomach is bullet-proof.”

 

Roger looked at his watch. “One hour forty-five? You dropped a set or something?”

 

Rafa flipped him the bird. “See you later, arschloch!” he said while disappearing from the room. “Your Swiss German is better than your English” he yelled, laughing.

 

The moderator had to wait a few minutes for the commotion to end. “So, okay. We’ll take one last English question, and then we’ll switch languages, okay?” Two dozen hands raised. “Okay, you, yes.”

 

 

─Beijing, 2008─

 

“Can you believe I’m out?” said Roger taking a long swing from the whiskey bottle. “No. I cannot, Rogi” replied Rafa next to him. They were both in the balcony of the Olympic village, legs dangling from the railing, enjoying the night breeze.

 

“Olympics are really not my fucking thing. It’s the third time, Raf. Third!” Rafa rouse a lonely eyebrow. “What?” demanded Roger. Rafa smiled. “You were only 18 in Sidney and still made the semi-finals! It was amazing!” Roger elbowed him in the ribs. “You were 19 when you won your first slam!”

 

Rafa laughed “Rogi, don’t you know you should not compare to others?” “Asshole!” Rafa tried to grab Roger’s bottle but he kept it away from him. “You still have to play. And now that I’m out, you better win. I have another bottle, we’ll open it when you get gold.” Rafa nodded.

 

“But, Roger, remember, even if you didn’t make it in Sidney you got something even better than a medal.” Roger looked at him confused for a second, until he smiled, fondly. “I got Mirka.”

 

“You got Mirka. Love is better than medals, no?” Roger smiled.

 

“Then you are definitely going to get a medal. You’re the most single person I have ever met!” laughed Roger. Rafa didn’t join in. “Hey, Raf. I’m sorry. I mean…” Rafa nudged him. “Is true. But it okay. I have other important things.”

 

“Rafa, you’re amazing. I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”

 

Rafa was looking ahead, at the city lights. “Don’t worry, Rogi. I have a lot. I can’t ask for more.”

 

“Well, you can ask for a gold medal” he said. Rafa laughed, finally. “I don’t think, they gonna give me just because of ask. I gotta win. But…” he raised his eyebrows “you can ask for something, Rogi.”

 

Roger blinked. “For what?”

 

“This is Olympics 2008, you start dating Olympics 2000. It’s 8 years, Rogi. When you gonna ask Mirka?”

 

“You think I should?” Rafa shrugged “Don’t you want a family with Mirka?” Roger nodded. “So, isn’t it good time? With meaning too. From Olympics to Olympics. Also, that way, you have nice memory of Beijing…”

 

Roger ruffled Rafa’s hair. “I have nice memories already. It’s our first Games together, Raf… But, you know what? I think… I think it’s a very nice idea…”

 

“Of course! Is mine, no?” Roger hit Rafa on the back of the head. “Tomorrow, after you’ve finished training I’ll come pick you up and you’re coming with me to choose a ring since this is your very nice idea.”

 

Something crossed Rafa’s eyes, but it was gone after a second, a huge smile showed his white teeth. “Okay. I go.”

 

 

─Basel, 2009─

 

“Rafa, it’s too much!” said Mirka said. Rafa shushed her. “But, you like?”

 

Mirka and Roger looked around the colourful room “How do you even sneak into our house to prepare a nursery? You’ve been on tour with me!”

 

Rafa looked very pleased with himself. “I sneak here every time you go on romantic getaway. And Lynette gave me key. We did it together. She says I needed some help with colour choices.”

 

Roger bit his lip “Well, my mother is a very wise woman.” Rafa nodded, solemnly, but then he bit his own lip “But… do you like?” He looked like a nervous kid right before a school recital.

 

Mirka run to give him a big hug. “I love it, Raf. It’s beautiful.”

 

Rafa hugged her back, very carefully, which made Roger’s heart swell. “I’m glad. I’m so excited to be Uncle Rafa. I hope the babies come tomorrow!”

 

Roger shook his head. “We have two weeks to go. And we need them to prepare ourselves.”

 

“And to choose names” said Mirka stepping away from Rafa to look at Roger disapprovingly. Roger let out a sigh. “I can’t choose. I love them all!”

 

Rafa joined Mirka in her disapproval. “You don’t love them all! You don’t love Brumhilde or Godiva, right?” Roger rolled his eyes. “Well, of course, I don’t like those…” He then crooked an eyebrow to look at Rafa “How do you know them anyway?”

 

Rafa raised his chest. “I read five baby names books.” Mirka covered her mouth to laugh. Roger laughed right at his friend’s face. “You can laugh now. But you won’t laugh when you hear the names I have found!” Rafa left the room quickly.

 

“He’s too much” laughed Mirka sweetly. “What if we hate the names he has picked though? He’ll be devastated!” Roger smiled “He’ll be alright. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. Also, remember, we were worried that his best man speech at the wedding would be awful and he did amazing.”

 

“That’s true” agreed Mirka going to sit in the beautiful rocking chair by the window. “Oh! It’s so comfy!”

 

“I’m back” said Rafa. He was carrying a black leather-bound notebook. “Okay. I’m ready. Rogi, you sit too. This is important!” Roger went to sit in the fluffy blue beanbag by the corner.

 

“Okay. I give this much thought. Names are very important. Also, difficult because you have this stupid middle name thing. So, no need two names, need four!” he complained. “But! After a long time. I think I have it!”

 

Roger was debating between being excited and exasperated with Rafa. That happened a lot with the two of them actually.  

 

“So, baby number one, will be very strong, the first one to come out. So, first name Charlene, which means warrior. Is your baby so for sure strong.” He smiled at them both. “Also, Charlene is another version of Carolina, like Mirka’s grandmother.” Mirka’s eyes watered suddenly and Roger reached out to hold her hand. Rafa swallowed. “For… middle name, she must have something from Roger, so a name with R is best. I think Riva. This name has two meanings. One: regain strength and two… from the shore. So like water, so maybe a bit to remember me.” The last word was said so quietly Roger and Mirka struggled to hear it.

 

“Charlene Riva Federer” tried Mirka after a while. “And what about the second baby, Rafa?”

 

Rafa’s eyes were glued to the scribbles on the notebook. He took a long breath. “Second baby is very kind, because she lets warrior baby go first. So, kind name. Myla. Myla means merciful and is Slavic name, like Miroslava.”

 

“I love it” said Roger. “Rafa, I really love it.” A tiny smile adorned his tanned face.

 

“I’m glad.” He finally raised his eyes to look at them both. “Middle name must also have R. Baby Myla will be strong and beautiful. And if Charlene has the water in the second name, Myla must have the earth, so Rose. Myla Rose.”

 

Roger stood up then and went to Rafa. He hugged him with all of his might making Rafa’s back crack. “I’m so happy you’re here with us for this. Being a dad is very scary, so I’m glad you’ll be here too.”

 

“Always, Rogi” said Rafa returning the embrace.

 

Mirka rose as well and she put a hand on Rafa’s head. “Myla and Charlene will be very lucky to have you as their… godfather.”

 

Roger heard a sniffle and felt Rafa shake in his arms. “Godfather is… _padrino_?”

 

Roger wasn’t sure, but apparently Mirka was. “Yes, Rafa. If that’s what you want…”

 

Rafa released Roger to hug Mirka. “I can’t ask for more.”

 

 

─ London, 2012─

 

Roger shouldn’t really be there. But he really didn’t think anyone would have the guts to stop him. He burst into the locker room and went straight to Rafa who was sitting on the bench clenching his teeth while a doctor worked on his right knee.

 

“Retire” he said. Rafa looked at him with fire and fury in his eyes. “I’m not gonna retire.”

 

“You’re are an idiot and you’re in pain. Fucking retire, Rafa!”

 

“I won’t.”

 

Roger wanted to pull his hair out. “Fine. Don’t. It won’t matter much, Rosol is kicking your ass anyway. He’ll advance no matter what you do because I don’t care how strong you are, you’re not going to win with the knee like that.”

 

“Not with that support, Roger. That’s for sure.” Rafa sounded deflated.

 

Roger went to sit next to Rafa and slowly put an arm around him. “Rafa, you have to really think here. You know if it was the other way around, you would tell me to retire.”

 

Rafa shook Roger’s arm off him. “Is never other way around, Roger. Is always me! My body always breaks, can’t help it, is way it is. Have to accept. If I break, I break. I accept that.”

 

“I don’t accept that, Rafa. AT ALL!” Roger grabbed Rafa’s jaw, so he could see his eyes. “I fucking want you safe, okay? What the hell do you need to proof? Rosol is nothing. They are all nothing. Even Novak. I don’t fucking care if he has beat you more times than you’ve beaten him, you’re better than him.” Rafa opened his mouth to protest, Roger wouldn’t allow it. “Are you better than me?” Rafa’s eyes grew large. Roger continued. “No, you aren’t and still you have beaten me more times than I have beaten you. I’m not less of a tennis player because of it and neither are you. Rafa, think about the whole picture, what will happen if you break for real?”

 

Rafa looked to his swollen knee covered in tape. “Think of the children, Rafa. The girls need you safe and happy and around. What a fucking example are you giving them? Mirka and me too. I hate to watch you in pain. Don’t do it. It’s not worth it and you know it. It’s not a final, you don’t owe it to anyone.” Rafa’s breathing was slowing down and Roger realized he almost had it. He stroked his friend’s wet hair. “Stop now. Then come home, we’ll play with the girls, we can watch a movie. Tomorrow you can leave for Ibiza and when we are done, we’ll join you. And after that we can go see the doctors and make a recovery plan, okay?”

 

Rafa shook his head. “No.” “Rafa…” His friend looked at him, his eyes determined. “I won’t go to Ibiza. I’ll stay here in London, with you. I stay here to watch you win your seventh Wimbledon.”

 

Roger felt chocked up. “Okay. We’ll do that.”

 

Rafa signalled for the doctor to stand up so he could raise from the bench. “I go out to tell them now. You wait here?”

 

Roger nodded. It wasn’t until Rafa left the room that Roger allowed the tears of relief to fall down his face.

 

 

─Zurich, 2014─

 

“But, everything is okay, no?” Rafa asked through the other end of the line.

 

“Yes, everything is fine. But the doctor has recommended bed rest until labour.”

 

“Okay” he heard a relieved sigh. “Okay.”

 

“I’m going to stay here, of course. But… Can the girls come stay with you? They are too excited and nervous about the birth… I think also a bit jealous. It’s… stressing Mirka a bit and I need to take care of her. Mirka’s parents will come to help with Mirka, of course, and I was thinking my parents but…”

 

“Roger, you don’t even have to ask. I love to have them. They stay with me often enough. They love it here and the tournaments pending are all really close to Mallorca, so I think we’ll be fine.”

 

Roger smiled. “My mom will come too. I hope that’s okay. She says it’s to help you, but I think she just wants to stay in your house and go to the beach every day.”

 

“Lynette is a very wise woman” said Rafa. “It will be no problem at all. She can help when I’m training.”  

 

“Rafa. I hope you know… I know we don’t say it… but I hope you know… They are my babies but… They are… I mean… you are… too… is…”

 

Roger could feel Rafa’s smile even if he couldn’t see it. It was the small one, reserved for special moments.

 

“Rogi, I know. You don’t need to say. And… I also know. It’s the same for me. They are… Charly and Myly are… the world, Roger. And… I can’t wait to meet Leo and Lennard. More twins, Rogi!”

 

“Yeah. I… can’t wait.” Roger let out a nervous laugh. “Hey, Rafa, I have to warn you… I told my mom why you chose names with L for the babies… and I can’t guarantee she won’t cry in your arms when she sees you.”

 

“Is okay, Rogi. I’m glad she’s happy.”

 

Something pulled at Roger’s trousers. He looked down and he saw the twins looking up with big brown eyes. “What?” Myla reached for the phone “Rafi?” Roger smiled. “Yes. Wait a second. Rafa, the girls want to talk to you.”

 

“Great!” Roger put the phone on speaker and lowered it until it was in front of his girls. “RAFI! RAFI!” they yelled in unison.

 

“Com estan ses meues nines?” he asked jovially “BÉÉÉÉÉ!” they responded. It always made Roger’s heart burst with joy to hear the girls speaking in Mallorquí with Rafa.

 

 

─London, 2018─

 

“To be honest I think we all wished for this to happen, but I didn’t really think it would or, that even if it did, I wouldn’t be as perfect as this” said Andy Murray from the commentators’ booth.

 

“Right, you are, Andy. The impossible dream has become a reality. Today, Sunday the 15th of June of 2018, almost on the 10th anniversary of the best match in the history of tennis, Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer, number 1 and number 2 in the world are, once again, in central court of the All England Club fighting for the title. We are four hours into the match and now the players are resting before this decisive fifth set. All bet are off!”.

 

“This first four sets have been filled with some amazing tennis. Honestly, I truly feel like Roger and Rafa really are the heart of our sport and I am so grateful to be able to be here to witness this live” continued Andy.

 

“I couldn’t have said it better, Andy. We are going on a short break and, when we return, Roger will serve for the fifth set of the Wimbledon final of 2018.

 

 

─Tokyo, 2020─

 

“Roger, congratulations on your Gold Medal! What a way to say goodbye to tennis.” Jim Courier winked at him. “Or maybe this victory will make you reconsider? Just a month until the US Open and you’re clearly in fit form!”

 

Roger laughed. “Tempting, but no!” The audience let out a collective “oh”. “Honestly, I’ve accomplished way more than I ever dreamed in my career. My one big regret was not having an Olympic Gold and… now I do. So, really, I’m good. It’s time to rest and enjoy other things.”

 

Jim smirked “Also, it’s maybe time to let some other guys have a chance, don’t you think?”

 

Roger smirked back “Well, Rafa is still playing so I think they will still have their work cut out for themselves.” Roger looked at the tunnel where Rafa stood, sweaty and tired with a huge smile on his face. Jim followed his gaze.

 

“Roge, can you talk about what it means to you the way it has ended?”

 

Roger looked at the hardcourt in front of him. “Not in my wildest dreams I would have imagined a more perfect way. An Olympic final... that I win!” The public roared in laughter. Roger continued “Playing my biggest rival in a gruelling five setter with three tiebreaks, the last of which, I believe is the longest ever. So… really, perfection for me.”

 

“Well, for you maybe. I had like eleven heart attacks. I bet Rafa knew you were retiring, he could have gone a bit easier on you, don’t you think? Given the occasion…”

 

Roger smiled. “I didn’t tell him, actually. But… he knows me as well as my wife, I’m sure he guessed. And, also, because he knows me, he knows that I would have hated it if he had handed it to me. But, you know, that would never happen. He’s so freaking competitive, I don’t think he would ever let me win at anything, the asshole. Not even Parchís.”

 

Jim laughed good naturedly and then put a hand on Roger’s shoulder. “Well it’s an incredibly emotional moment and I think I speak in behalf of all tennis fans when I say: Thank you, Roger, for everything you’ve done for the sport. You will be sorely, sorely missed.”

 

Roger squeezed Jim’s shoulder in return. “Oh, I’ll be around, someone has to hit with that asshole!” he said pointing at Rafa still in the tunnel.

 

The crowd got on their feet, yelling and applauding. Roger waved at them. “Ladies and gentlemen” said Jim Courier, “your Olympic Gold Medallist, from Switzerland, Roger Federer!”

 

The crowd grew even louder, and Roger picked up his bags and went to leave the court. Rafa was waiting for him, he passed an arm around him when Roger reached him, guiding him to the locker room. “I’m so proud of you, Rogi.”

 

Roger grabbed the hand on his shoulder and he squeezed, hard. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

 

Rafa smiled “You could. But I’m glad you didn’t.”

 

 

─Zurich, 2022─

 

Roger and the kids were all sprawled on the sofa with bowls of popcorn and cans of Fanta. Charlene was laying her head on his shoulder and Lenny had his feet on his lap. Roger felt… content at that moment. He couldn’t say happy, because… but he felt content for a moment. Especially because on the huge screen in front of them Rafa was destroying Ceccinato and he was one game away from giving Spain his seventh Davis Cup, sixth of which he had secured himself. He had planned to fly to Mallorca with Charlene to pick up Myla and the twins from the Academy and then go to Madrid to see the Final live, but… things had happened. He’d still had gone to pick up the kids though, but to bring them home…

 

“I want to do the reverse smash like Rafa so bad!” said Myla from her end of the sofa.

 

Charlene raised from his shoulder to look at her sister, rolling her eyes “Keep dreaming. Rafi is the only one who can do the reverse smash, just like dad is the only one who can do the SABR.”

 

The twins laughed and Roger tried very hard not to join in. Just then Rafa send a forehand down the line and sealed the match.

 

“YES!” He yelled.

 

The children started cheering loudly too. “Kids, lower your voices a bit” said Roger. “Your mother is resting.” The noise disappeared like it had been in a second and Roger felt a pang of guilt at his children sudden sad expressions.

 

“Look” said Leo pointed at the TV. “Look how high they are throwing him! I hope they don’t drop him!” Roger laughed at his son, grateful beyond what he could say. On the screen the Spanish team had gathered to throw Rafa in the air in celebration. When they finally put him down, a reporter got close to Rafa for the post-match interview.  

 

“Rafa, congratulations!” he said in broken English. “Fantastic victory. How are you feeling?”

 

Rafa was smiling but his eyes were serious. Roger leaned into the TV, something was off. “I’m very happy. The Davis Cup has always been very important to me.  So… I think… this is actually… this is… actually a great time to announce that today I retire from professional tennis.”

 

“WHAT?” yelled Charlene at the top of her lungs. Roger was so shocked that he couldn’t even tell her to quiet down.

 

“What?” said the reporter echoing her daughter’s words. Rafa looked solemn and calm. He looked serious, dead serious. Roger felt a huge knot on his throat. “Today I retire from tennis.”

 

“But… but… you’re confirm to play the Australian Open next month, you’re defending champion!” the reporter said as if that may somehow be new information. Rafa smiled. “I’m sure there’s a couple of guys who will be happy that I’m not going to Australia.”

 

The poor man seemed completely lost. “I’m sorry, Rafa, just very unexpected. Is something wrong? Are you injured?”

 

“No, I’m not injured. It’s a decision I have made. It’s the right time. I’m happy with the career I had. I’m happy I get to say goodbye with my teammates and a victory for Spain. I can’t ask for more.”

 

The voice was soft, the tone was tough. The reporter opened his mouth again, clearly to insist but after a few seconds he put on a neutral expression.

 

“Well, we are very sad to say goodbye, but thank you for everything you do for tennis. Muchas gracias por todo, Rafa.”

 

Rafa smiled again and looked at the crowd. “Thank you, all of you. Everyone here today, everyone who has ever been to a match or watched on TV. Thank you to the Armada, who have been my brothers. Thank you to all the players on the tour, to the organizers of the events, to the sponsors and the ATP and ITF, I’ve had a wonderful happy career thanks to all of you.” He then looked at the players box where his team were dumbstruck, like Roger. “I want to thank my team, of course, for always being by my side and helping me fight every day and who work so hard with me at the Academy and the Fourndation. I also want to thank my family and friends from Mallorca for all their support. And, of course…” Rafa looked straight at the camera, Roger felt his eyes on him, even though it was impossible. “I want to thank Roger Federer and Mirka and Charly, Myly, Len and Leo for being there for me. You mean the world to me.”

 

Roger chocked up and saw that the girls were openly crying. Leo was looking at the screen, confused, and Len was biting his lip. Roger gathered Charlene in his arms and motioned for Myla to come too. She jumped to him and two seconds later he had two crying teenagers on his chest.

 

“So, Rafa won’t be on the tour anymore?” asked Leo. Roger nodded. “So, he’ll be with us then?”

 

Roger opened his mouth, but Lenny beat him to it. “Of course, stupid. Rafa is our second dad!”

 

Myla turned to look at his brother. After a second she hugged him close. “You’re totally right, Lenny.”

 

Just then, Roger’s phone started ringing at the table behind them. He went to get it. “Rafa” he sighed.

 

“Hey… You were watching.”

 

“We were all watching” clarified Roger.

 

“Mirka too?” he asked hopefully.

 

Roger bit his lip “No. She’s resting.”

 

Rafa let out a breath so long, Roger swore he felt the breeze on his ear. “Raf… you didn’t… you didn’t have to…”

 

“I did, Roger.”

 

“But…”

 

“Mirka is sick, Roger” he said. He almost whispered the third word.

 

“But your career” Roger felt obligated to say. He felt the fire in Rafa raising “I have 21 Majors, Rogi. 6 Davis cups and 4 Olympic medals. And last year I finally won the fucking ATP Tour Finals. I’m the King of Clay. I’m done. I have to be with my family.”

 

Roger felt his tears finally fall. “Come as soon as you can.”

 

“I’m flying out tonight.”

 

“Good” said Roger.

 

“Good” repeated Rafa. “Now let me talk to the children.”

 

Roger turned and his four children where looking at him with big blurry eyes. He smiled “Rafa wants to talk to you…”

 

“ME FIRST” they all yelled in unison.

 

 

─Geneva, 2023─

 

“Rafa called me from the car” he told Mirka, “they’ll be here any minute.”

 

“Good” said Mirka with the lowest of voices “I’ve really missed my babies”.

 

“I know” Roger was caressing the scarf covering her head “I just… thought I’d be best if they…”

 

Mirka tried to smile but she only managed to slightly move her lips “I know. You’ve done so well, Roger. I wouldn’t have wanted the children to see anyway”.

 

Roger had tried, at the beginning, not to cry in front of Mirka but in the past few months he’d stopped trying altogether. So he cried. “I… I don’t know what I’ll do, Mirka, I… really can’t think what to do.”

 

Mirka looked serene and beautiful even stricken as she was by the disease. Her dark eyes remained as strong and as beautiful as ever. “That won’t be a problem, Roger. You’ll have so much to do… You’ll have to take care of four children who, for a while, will be very sad.” Roger bid his lip while nodding. “You will also will have to start going by the Foundation sooner or later. Nice call in merging it and making it the Federer-Nadal Foundation but it’s not fair for Maribel and Ana María to have to manage the whole thing. There are too many projects.”

 

“Mirka” complained Roger, “do you really think now is the time to talk about work?”

 

His wife smirked. “Who knows if I’ll get another chance.” Roger frowned “But, also, I put a lot of effort into the Foundation, you must honour that.”

 

Roger nodded, his cheeks wet. “I will. I promise you I will.”

 

Just then there was a knock on the door. Roger straightened himself “Come in.”

 

His two beautiful girls and his two beautiful boys came hesitantly into the room. And Roger ran to hug them all. “I’ve missed you so much” he whispered into all their heads.

 

The door closed, and Roger saw Rafa standing there. Proud, tall, serious, his eyes filled with sadness. Roger put a hand on his shoulder and Rafa did the same with him. “Nins, go say hello to your mom.”

 

The children disentangled themselves from Roger and went straight for the bed at the end of the room. “My babies” yelled Mirka. “Look at you! I talk to you every day, but Skype didn’t show me you were so tan. You’re darker than Rafa now!”

 

“I don’t think we can ever be as tan as Rafi, mom” said Charlene leaning to kiss her mother’s cheek. “And guess what? Myla will play her first junior international tournament in September!”

 

“Oh my god, Char! You’re the worst! I wanted to tell her myself!”

 

That finally got a real smile from Mirka. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so proud. Tell me everything.” Myla was red as an apple but started talking nonstop. Until the boys interrupted. “I’m going too, mom” said Leo, “I will be playing in the 10 and under category!”

 

“That’s amazing. I bet there won’t be many lefties there” she said. Leo looked so pleased “We checked, just another one, but I think he is not very good. You know what? Toni says that I’m almost as good as Rafa was when he was my age.”

 

“Well, Toni is very honest, so that’s incredible, baby.” She turned to Lenny. “And you?” He smiled. “We’ll play the final of the Balearic Championships in two months. And the coach says that if I keep training hard I’ll be first string for sure.”

 

“I’m sure you will.” Lenny looked at his mother, suddenly unsure. “Mom, do you think you’ll be able to come to my match?” The temperature of the room dropped all of a sudden.

 

“I don’t think so, baby” Mirka said with clear eyes but sad voice. “Okay. I just wanted to check.”

 

Roger was two seconds away from losing it again. But it was one thing to do it in front of Mirka, and another in front of his children. He couldn’t do that.

“Nins” said Rafa. They all turned. “I’m really hungry. Can you go to the cafeteria to get a table for six and order? Your dad and I will be down in a second.”

 

“I order for you, Rafi. We eat the same, of course!” said Leo going to the door. Lenny marched behind him but turned to his mother. “We’ll come back after we eat, okay, mom? And then I'll show you the videos Rafa made from training the other day, okay?”

 

“That’s a great idea!” she said.

 

Myla and Charlene went to the door and stopped in front of Rafa. “We’re not stupid, you know?” Rafa caressed both of their faces. “I know. You’re the smartest girls I’ve ever met. But can we have some time with Mirka anyway?” Rafa handed them his wallet.

 

The girls looked at each other before nodding and disappearing after their brothers. The door shut.

 

“Thanks, Rafa” whispered Mirka. Rafa went to her and bend to give her two sweet kisses on her cheeks. “How bad is the pain?” Mirka closed her eyes for a second. “It was really bad before… now they are giving the really good stuff, so I can barely feel a thing.”

 

“That’s good” he replied.

 

“Depends of how you look at it. The good stuff is reserved for the end.” Rafa squeezed her hand, his voice slightly shaky. “I know. But you gave it everything you got, Mirka. You are incredibly strong.”

 

She smiled “Raf?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I need you to care of the family now. Roger is kind of useless.” Rafa smiled through his tears, he looked at Roger. “He is. Don’t worry, Mirka, I will. Forever. I promise.”

 

Mirka squeezed his fingers back “I know. I’m so glad we met you, Rafa.”

 

“No” replied Rafa “I’m the lucky one. That you have allowed me to be a part of it. I’ve learned so much from you, Mirka. How to be strong, how to make decisions, how to lead. And… How to love. And I’m so grateful for you in this world and for the amazing children you have brought to it.”

 

A lonely dry tear left Mirka’s left eye. “Well, I don’t know if I deserve all that praise, but, today, I’ll take it. Hey, Rafa, what’s that you always say?

 

Rafa smiled “I can’t ask for more?” Mirka dug into his eyes. “Yeah, that.”

 

Rafa lowered down to give her another kiss. “I’ll go with the children.” He looked at Roger “Take your time, I’ll bring them back after a while and maybe you can talk then if you’re up to it?”

 

“Thanks, Raf. But, we will talk to them.” Roger punctuated every word “The three of us.” Rafa nodded, very slowly. “Whatever you want.”

 

He rose from the bed and went to him. He gave him a long and warm hug. “I’m here, okay?” “I know” said Roger into his neck. “Thank you.”

 

Rafa left the room and Roger went to sit by his wife. He saw, impossible as it seemed, that life was leaving her to go somewhere else. She was looking at the ceiling.

 

“Will you move to Mallorca after?” she said out of the blue. “I think so... Myla and Leo are at the Academy full time anyway. Lenny loves it too and Char, well, Char is so strong she can be anywhere.”

 

“Good. The family will be fine there. Only nice memories in Mallorca.” “Yeah.”

 

Their silence was filled with the beeps of the machines she was connected to. Roger cried again. “I’m so scared, Mirka.”

 

She smirked “I should be the one who’s scared, Roger. Try not to be so egocentric.”

 

Humour at a moment like this was not what he expected, but it was something that he could do. “Hey, you married me.”

 

“I did.” And with those two words, the mood darkened again. “Roger?” He nodded. “Be happy. Don’t stop living. Treasure what you have. Raise our kids right.”

 

He would. To all of it. He would.

 

 

─Manacor, 2027─

 

“Dad, I just don’t want people to make a big deal out of it. It’s tough enough having the surname Federer.”

 

“Thank you, darling” he said infusing as much sarcasm as he could.  

 

Myla rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean!”

 

“Okay. Time out” said Rafa. “We have to split up anyway since Len will be at training camp in Barcelona. Roger you can go to Paris with Charly to help her move into the dorm, I’ll go to the tournament with Myly. And Leo”, he looked at him “you can choose, Paris or Istanbul.”

 

Leo from the sofa didn’t bother to turn around. “Can I just stay here? I’ll stay at Padrina’s. We have this fishing trip planned with Jan and his dad and also...”, he finally looked at them “I want to go to Sascha’s master class at the Academy. It’s gonna be so cool.”

 

Rafa looked at Roger. “What do you think? My mother won’t mind if he stays with her.”

 

“That’s fine” he said but turned again to look at Myla. “I’m a bit hurt, to be honest, that you don’t want me there for your first tournament on the WTA tour.”

 

His daughter went to hug him. “Of course I want you there but I’m really nervous and I want to prove that I’ve earned that spot on the tournament. If you go, everything will be about you and your legacy and I’m not ready for that.” Roger squeezed her hard while stroking her long hair.

 

“And you think going with Rafa Nadal will be better?” laughed Charlene. Myla send her daggers with her eyes. “I know, stupid! But there are another three players from the Academy so it’s not so strange if he, as one of the coaches, goes.”

 

Charlene played with a loose strand of blue hair. “I guess… that is slightly better. What a headache! I’m so glad I’m pursuing the arts instead of going for sports.” “Well, you suck at all sports, so it’s better this way” said Leo.

 

“That was mean, Leo” said Rafa. Leo turned and bit his lip. “I’m sorry, Char.”

 

She dismissed him with her hand. “It’s fine. You’re absolutely right anyway. But just as well, since I hate sweating.” They all laughed.

 

“Dad” said Myla trying to get his attention. “I will have a long career. As long as yours. o give me some time to find my footing. And then, come be with me on tour, okay? I really want you to see me play in a Slam.”

 

Roger smiled so big his cheeks hurt. “I can’t wait, darling.”

 

“I personally plan to follow in Rafa’s footsteps” said Leo from the sofa. “Dad was almost 22 when he won his first Slam. Rafa had just turned 19, so, you know…”

 

Charlene and Myla rolled her eyes and left the room. Rafa went to the sofa, sat next to Leo and ruffled his hair which made him jumped out of his reach immediately. “I love you, Leo. But you’re such a teenager right now.”

 

Leo groaned upping the volume on the TV and Roger looked for Rafa’s eyes to share an exasperated sigh.

 

“Roger, there you are!” said a female voice from the doorway. “Did you forget? We have a reservation in half an hour!”

 

“Sorry, Gloria” he hurried. “Let me grab my things and we can go.”

 

“You’re gonna go dressed like that?” she asked, Roger looked at his clothes and heard Leo snort from the sofa. Such a teenager.

 

“Yeah.”

 

She made an annoyed face. “Ugh. Whatever. Let’s just go.” She left without waiting for him.

 

“I think Gloria is more “teenager” than me even though she’s 30.”

 

Roger inhaled deeply. He loved his children. Every day. Even today. But, god, Leo could really be an asshole. He hoped he’d get over it soon. 

 

 

─Manacor, 2031─

 

“Lenny, are you even paying attention?” Roger complained. “I’m not the one who will have to play this team next week, you are.”

 

“Sorry, Dad” His cheeks were bright red, he was biting his lip so hard it turned white, and his pupils were blown in fear. “It’s just… I have to tell you something.”

 

Roger turned the TV off at hearing his son’s tone. He put an arm around him. “What is it?”

 

Lenny inhaled deeply, twice. “I think it will be okay. Rafa said it would be okay, you know, considering… But I’m still freaking nervous. Shit.”

 

“Hey” Roger smiled. “Why would you be nervous? What are you going to say? You want to move to India to raise elephants? I’m cool with that.”

 

“No. I’m just…” Lenny looked at him then, his nerves had left him and there was only the determination that he saw every time he took to the football field, “… gay.”

 

Roger blinked. “I mean, I know it’s not a big deal. Rafa said that. He said: Lenny, your dad has a problem with me? And I said: No. And then he said: So how would he have a problem with you?” His son rose from the sofa and started pacing around the room, hands crazy on the air, very much like Rafa when he was nervous. “Also, it’s not like Rafa’s time anymore, you know, when male athletes had to be straight as an arrow. Luckily, we’ve evolved but… geez, it’s hard.” He turned to look at Roger, an indignant look on his face. “You know what? I think everyone should come out, not just non-straight people. Everyone should go through this.”

 

“Rafa is gay?” was what came out of Roger’s mouth.

 

Lenny burst out laughing. “Dad, you’re hilarious! Dude, I’m gonna cry!” He was doubling over, and his eyes were wet. “I have to tell Leo, he’ll shit his pants! What time is it now in America? Will they be awake? I have to tell Rafa that it went well.” He leaned over Roger and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”

 

Lenny went to leave the room. Roger finally gathered himself. “Lenny” his son turned. “I’m proud of you everyday and I’m glad you told me.” His son smiled brightly. “Thanks, dad. I’m gonna go call Leo though. You’re not getting away from me telling him what you just said!”

 

Roger smiled and when he heard his sons’ steps on the stairs he picked up the phone. “Hey” said Rafa after the second tone. “Sorry, you were sleeping?” “It’s fine. What’s up?” Rafa was trying to sound nonchalant it made Roger smile. “Lenny talked to me.” “And it was fine” said Rafa, not even a dash of question in his tone. “It was fine” Roger confirmed. “But he almost pissed himself laughing when I asked if you were gay.”

 

Three long awkward seconds went by and then Rafa burst into laughs himself. “It’s not funny.” “Rogi, is a little funny! You’ve known me for twenty-five years!” “YES!” said Roger “And in that time you’ve never told me about any guy, or anybody, really!”

 

There was another silence. “Rogi, I did tell you.” Roger was at loss for a minute and then he heard commotion on Rafa’s end of the line. “What’s going on?” he asked, Rafa laughed a little. “Lenny is talking to Leo and now wants to talk to me. Roger, I need to get Leo back into bed, he plays the final tomorrow.” “Yeah, yeah. Do that.”

 

“Rogi, when we get home on Monday we can talk if you want.” “Okay.”

 

But Leo ended up winning the Challenger, so when they got home, Roger forgot to ask about that.

 

 

─Manacor, 2034─

 

“That smells great” said Roger leaning over Rafa’s shoulder to look at the boiling pot. He then turned and went to make himself a drink. “I’m staying for dinner, okay?” “No problem. It will be a bit late, though. Charlene and Lihong were going to the cinema, they will be here around 10.30.” Roger smiled, happily. “I didn’t know they were coming for dinner.”

 

Rafa rolled his eyes. “Charly has been telling him he needs to try this dish and that dish, so I’ve been stuck here all afternoon.” He didn’t sound mad though. “But didn’t you have plans with Julia?”

 

Roger took the first sip of his Gin and tonic. It was a long one. “We’ve broken up.” Rafa turned a raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

 

Roger sat on the sofa, from the side he could see Rafa moving around the open kitchen. “She said she wanted me to move in with her” “And you said no” continued Rafa. “And I said no” Roger confirmed.

 

“Are you okay?” Roger waved a hand. “Yeah. She is great but… I have my life, my routines… We travel a lot anyway, between the Foundation, the Academy and the tour and Lenny’s matches… I’m great as I am. I don’t want to live with someone.”

 

Rafa smiled. “Yes. Also, if you lived with someone you would probably have to cook or do your own grocery shopping.”

 

Roger clapped his hands “Exactly. I just rather you do it, as always. You do it so much better than me.”

 

Rafa threw him a tiny potato that hit Roger right on the side of the head. “Warning, Nadal. Unsportsmanlike conduct.”

 

Rafa laughed from the kitchen. “Relationships are a tone of work” sighed Roger.

 

Roger looked at Rafa’s back. “Hey, I just remembered! We never had that conversation.”

 

“What conversation?”

 

“About you never telling me you were gay.”  Rafa came out the kitchen just to look at him and roll his eyes in an uncanny imitation of Leo’s teenage years.

 

“As I said three years ago, Rogi” Rafa put the stress on every word in the tone he used to employ when scolding the children. “I did tell you.”

 

And Roger, responded like they used to respond. “No, you really didn’t.”

 

Rafa smiled. “Old age… Poor, Rogi.”

 

“Fuck you.” Rafa went back into the kitchen and Roger finished his drink. He looked at the bottom of the glass. “So… you ever had a boyfriend?”

 

“You want to know?” said Rafa. “I’m asking.”

 

From his profile we could see a tiny smile. “I had a boyfriend at sixteen. He was from here, we used to see each other in the tennis club all the time. Very pretty blue eyes. I think that’s why I dated him. Well, that and he was the only other kid who liked boys.”

 

Roger smiled. “And what happened to him?”

 

Rafa began to slice carrots. “Well… when I was seventeen I fell in love with someone for real, so I had to break up with him.”

 

“And then?”

 

Rafa turned his neck slightly to meet his eyes, before gathering all the vegetables and throwing them in the boiling pot. “After one year of loving in silence, when I knew for sure that my feelings would not go away, I decided to grow a pair and confess but… he didn’t love me back and had a girlfriend.”

 

Something snapped inside of Roger, his smile dropped. “What did you do?” he forced himself to say.

 

“I asked to be his friend. He was very kind. He said: Of course. But will that be okay for you?”

 

Roger felt the sea split in two inside his head. “And you said: I can’t ask for more” he finished himself.

 

Rafa turned to him then, smiling bright “Exactly right.” 

 

Roger couldn’t stop. He truly couldn’t stop. “And then?”  

 

“And then” he left the kitchen island to sit next to Roger on the sofa, “I became his best friend and I helped him raise his children”. Rafa held his arm for a second, strong and friendly. “And I’m always by his side, we live next to each other and I see his smile every day. And… I can’t ask for more”.

 

Roger grabbed his arm in return. “Rafa, I can’t ask for more means… it means that you’re happy and satisfied.”

 

A touch of red appeared on his cheeks accompanied by an embarrassed smile. “I know that… now. But you know how bad my English was back then.”

 

“So, what you meant, all those times… after the confession, at the Olympics, before the girls’ birth, with Mirka at the…” Roger was always forgetful, but that sentence kept playing in his head, dragging him down and down into a well of confusion. “When you said it, those times…  you meant… you meant…”

 

Rafa scratched his head. “I meant what I said. That I could not ask for anything more. For more things, for others... It would be too greedy.”

 

Roger was hit by a wave of regret “You didn’t mean you were happy…”

 

Rafa was calm and smiling still. “No. Well, I wasn’t completely happy, but I was happy enough, so, really I couldn’t ask for more.”

 

Roger made an effort to swallow all the emotions that were now filling his mouth “Rafa. All this time… Has it changed your…?”

 

Rafa’s smile grew soft. “I don’t regret it, Rogi. We’ve had a beautiful and happy life, we have beautiful and happy children, we had a long and successful career, we help in the world and we have everything we could ever ask for and then some...” He took Roger’s hand. “Now, I can finally say it and meant it the way it’s supposed to be. Roger, I can’t ask for more.”

 

Roger left the glass on the coffee table and then gathered Rafa’s face in his hands. He leaned in, closing his eyes.

 

“Roger don’t do that” said Rafa when he could already feel his breath on his mouth. His friend retreated. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not the point. I don’t need that.”

 

“Why?” Roger tried to get close again and Rafa put a hand on his chest, to keep him where he was. “For one, you’re the least gay person in the world. But mostly…” he smiled, “Roger, if you have a problem, who do you call?”

 

“You.”

 

“If something good happens, Roger, who do you want to tell?”

 

“The children and you.”

 

Rafa’s smile was getting bigger “Who do you talk to everyday, Roger?”

 

“You.” He repeated, smiling.

 

“I know that. The fact that you don’t have sex with me doesn’t mean you wouldn’t kill for me. So, yes, it’s not a normal love story. Maybe it’s not, but you’re the most important person in my life and I think I am the same for you... after the children, but that’s fine, because, you know, if we were in a burning building, I’d save the children first, too.”

 

Roger’s eyes started to sting. “You’re right. I’d do the same… and you are.”

 

Rafa squeezed his shoulder. “So, then, Roger, we can’t really ask for more.”

 

“I guess not.”

 

Rafa rose to his feet. “I have to check on the food. You go set up the table and then go pick up some orchata for dessert, okay? I didn’t have time to before. And put the TV on, football highlights will be up soon, I want to see Lenny.”

 

Roger smiled. “You’re asking for quite a lot.”

 

“Asshole.”

 

 

─Basel, 2042─

 

“She looks just like her that day” whispered Rafa.

 

Roger looked ahead, to the altar, where a photographer was taking pictures of the newly married Charlene. She looked glorious, five months pregnant in a dress that was pretty similar to the one Mirka had worn on their wedding. Roger knew, wherever she was, she’d be happy about that. “Yeah.”

 

“I don’t know why Marina isn’t here, though?” said Rafa.

 

Roger rolled his eyes. “She left me.” By the corner of his eyes he saw Rafa furrow his brows. “What did you do?” Roger kicked him in the chin and Rafa bit his mouth. “Why do you assume it’s my fault?”

Rafa raised an eyebrow and Roger sighed. “She wanted to be by my side all day. And sit with me at the presidential table.”

 

“So?” asked Rafa, Roger rolled his eyes “I told her no. We’ve only been serious for a few months.” Rafa shook his head. “You’re afraid of commitment.” Roger hit him on the arm “And you shouldn’t read Cosmopolitan, you’re 56.” Rafa put a hand dramatically over his heart “That was low.”

 

He passed an arm around Roger’s shoulder. “Are you okay, though?” Roger smiled at him. “Yeah. Marina is a very nice woman but… I wouldn’t have lasted anyway… She wanted a bunch of things and… I’m actually happy as I am.”

 

Rafa nodded.

 

“Excuse me, mister Federer, mister Nadal” said a voice to their left. She was the weeding planner. “I just wanted to let you know that, after the cake, the newlyweds will have their first dance and halfway through the song... And, don’t worry, I’ll let you know when, you have to join in the dance.”

 

“Whot?” said Rafa, so confused his old thick Spanish accent returned. “Dance?”

 

The woman nodded. “Of course. The parents join in the dance. It’ll be the two of you and Mr. and Mrs. Yang.”

 

Rafa’s eyes grew so large they looked like ping-pong balls. “No, sorry” he pointed at Roger and him, “we are not…”

 

“We’ll dance!” said Roger. “Thank you, Clara. Just let us know when the moment comes.” The woman smiled, “Perfect.”

 

After she went away Rafa turned to Roger.  “Why did you say we’d do it?” Roger shrugged. “Because we’ll do it” Rafa looked confused, Roger smiled “She said it’s the parents dance.” “So?” “ So, are you not a parent too?” Rafa looked at the ground, a small smile half hidden in his dark beard. “Okay, we dance. But I lead, you’re clumsy.”

 

“You’re just bossy.”

                                    

 

─Barcelona, 2067─

 

“Don’t keep you husband up long, mister Nadal” said the nurse. “He need his rest.”

 

“I’m not his husband” Rafa said.  The nurse looked perplexed.

 

“Yes” said Roger. “All the disadvantages of a nagging partner but none of the perks.” She laughed quite inappropriately before leaving. “Funny.”

 

“Always was.”

 

“Still are” said Rafa.

 

Roger sighed “Hey, Raf. I think I’m going to sleep.”

 

Rafa blinked twice, morning dew filled his dark lashes even though it was night-time.

 

“Do you want me to call the children?”

 

“Not until after. We’ve talked this afternoon. They’ll be alright.”

 

Rafa shook his head, his cheeks had rivers running through them “They won’t.”

 

“Not for a while, I guess.” Rafa nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

 

“I hope you let them take care of you too” said Roger grasping one of Rafa’s hands. “I… will.”

 

Roger looked at him then, straight in the eye, like those times when they were across the net from each other, only them in the world. “Raf, you’ve been the love of my life. Even without…”

 

“I know.”

 

Roger calloused fingers stroked Rafa’s equally wrinkled ones. “Have you been happy?”

 

“So happy, Roger. I…”

 

“…can’t ask for more?” Roger finished for him.

 

Rafa smiled, a witty smile. “Well… at this point I guess I can say that I wouldn’t have minded having some sex from time to time, to be honest. I only did three times with my first boyfriend at sixteen. That’s a bit sad… Our grandchildren have had a hundred times more sex than me.”

 

Roger laughed. Humour... he could do that “You could have had sex. I had sex.”

 

Rafa could too. “Don’t I know it? You told me every time!”

 

But then Roger felt a pang of ice hot pain rip through his chest, “Raf, it hurts a bit.”

 

Rafa pushed the button for the morphine. “It will be just a moment.”

 

“Okay.” Soon the pain went away, and he felt like he was slowly being lowered into a warm pool of fresh water, it felt so nice. Roger wanted to completely fall in it.

 

Rafa leaned into him, until he was standing just inches away from his face. Roger could feel with hot tears on his cold cheeks. “I’ll see you soon, Rogi.”

 

The warm water had covered almost all of him, but Roger forced himself to say “Rafa, don’t hurry. Take your time. As much as you can. I’ll be waiting. As long as it takes. It’s my turn now.”

 

Rafa put his forehead right onto Roger’s. “I can’t ask for more.”

 

And Roger closed his eyes.

 

And Rafa took his time.

 

 

─Somewhere, 2081─

 

“Long time no see, Raf” said Roger. He showed him a racket “How about a set?”

 

Rafa went to him, he didn’t touch him, he just took the racket. His smile was big and bright. “Don’t be lazy, Rogi. Best of five and no tiebreak on the fifth.”

 

“Okay, but not on clay.”

 

They both smiled.

 

 

─The End─

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are super appreciated! It's... a strange fanfiction, I know, it just happened. Lol. 
> 
>  
> 
> Translations German, Spanish and Mallorquí:
> 
> * Arschloch: asshole  
> * Padrino: godfather  
> * Com estan ses meues nines?: How are my girls doing?  
> * BÉÉÉÉÉ: GOOOOOD  
> * Muchas gracias por todo, Rafa.: Thanks a lot for everything, Rafa.  
> * Nins: Children  
> * Padrina: grandmother
> 
>  
> 
> Other notes:  
> *Parchís is the Spanish name for the board game Ludo. It's very popular in Spain (sort of old-fashioned too). Rafa actually mentioned in one of his Wimbledon pressers that he’d play it with his team to unwind.  
> *Orchata is a typical Spanish drink, especially around Valencia, Catalonia and the Balearic islands. It’s very typical to drink it during summer and is often taken as dessert as it is quite sweet.


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